Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bahamas and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Girls At Our Best! to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Masters at Work,
Q and Not U,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lee Hazlewood,
Television Personalities,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Khruangbin,
Joe Finger,
The Raincoats,
In Retrospect,
The Smoke,
Intrusion,
Babytalk,
Grandmaster Flash,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson,
Moebius,
David McCallum,
Harmonia,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
Scion,
Reagan Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers,
Ronan,
DJ Sneak,
Barclay James Harvest,
UT,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Monks,
kango's stein massive,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
John Coltrane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Patti Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Letta Mbulu,
Minny Pops,
The Busters,
Arthur Verocai,
Scientists,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pop Group,
Jawbox,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Human League,
Index,
Panda Bear,
Iggy Pop,
Tears for Fears,
Talk Talk,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.